Best Wishes
by htbthomas
Summary: It is a month before Peter and Mary Jane's wedding, and everything is seeming to go wrong. Unknown to the happy couple, help is about to come from an unexpected source. End of my post SM2 movieverse trilogy. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1: Typical

Best Wishes

_Summary: It is a month before Peter and Mary Jane's wedding, and everything is seeming to go wrong. Unknown to the happy couple, help is about to come from an unexpected source._

**A/N: This is the third part of my "trilogy" that began with _It Has Always Been You_ and continued with _Enquiring Minds_. It is still movieverse, but may touch on a few comicverse points. **

-------------------------

Chapter 1: Typical

_Thwip! Thwip!_ In quick succession, Spider-Man shot two web-lines out to catch the thieves by the back. Yanking them backward, he quipped, "Hey! Where are you two going? We weren't finished talking!" Without a beat, he shot a second web-line over the railing of a balcony above, and connected the lines together. Very soon, they were slowly swinging back and forth 10 feet above the street.

He waggled a finger at them. "I know you were in a hurry, but it isn't polite to leave without exchanging a few pleasantries…"

One of the thieves spat on the ground. "Screw you, Spider-Man. We don't have to--" His mouth suddenly sealed up with a stream of webbing.

"Tsk, tsk. How rude." He looked to the other man, who had shut his mouth tightly. "Well, I at least, was raised correctly. Give my regards to the authorities and have a nice day." Spider-Man started to leap away, but then paused. The masked head tilted slightly, and then nodded. "One last reminder…"

Webs spewed out of the gloved wrists at blinding speed. Spider-Man stopped to survey his work, then saluted the two men. Before they knew it, he was away over the rooftops.

They both turned as one to see what Spider-Man had done. In sparkling webbing, _Charlotte's Web_-style, was the word: "RUDE."

The second of the two turned to his partner, who was looking at him with eyebrows drawn down in anger and embarrassment. "Don't blame me. You were the one who couldn't keep his mouth shut."

---

Several blocks away, Peter paused for breath on the roof of a building. He had not been able to resist that last bit with the web-writing. Smiling, he took his cell phone out of the special pocket he had made for this purpose. Right in the middle of that last incident, it had vibrated. He supposed he would get used to it someday – it always made him jump a little.

A message indicator was showing at the top of the LCD display. He didn't recognize the number in his call history – who other than MJ, Aunt May or the Bugle would have this number? He accessed the message: "Mr. Parker, this is Marion Wallace of the _Royal Park Hotel_. I regret to inform you that due to our error, there has been a double-booking on the banquet room you reserved for your wedding reception. We are notifying both parties; however, the other client's reservation was made before yours, and has precedence. We will be happy to reschedule the date or refund your deposit. Please give us a call at 555-2440. Thank you."

Peter groaned. Where were they going to find another place for the reception? It was mid-April and there was only a month to go before the wedding. He and MJ were not exactly rolling in money. Any place that would take reservations on such short notice would probably be very expensive. _Typical Parker luck._

He started to dial the number given in the message, when on the street below, there was a loud screech of tires. His spider-sense suddenly flared as the driver became erratic. Pedestrians scurried out of the way. In the distance, Peter could hear a police siren. _They are not going to get here in time if that driver hits someone!_

He leaped into action, swinging swiftly downward. A mother clutched her child, frozen in fear, as the car careened toward them. Peter snagged the two of them in his arms. Setting them out of harm's way, he asked the woman, "Are you okay?"

She nodded numbly. His head snapped around as the car rounded another corner, almost on two wheels. "Excuse me," he apologized, and took off that direction.

_I've got to stop them, and fast!_ He used the momentum of swinging around the corner to land on the roof of the car. Leaning over the passenger-side window, he rapped sharply on the glass. "Hey! You wanna slow it down, buddy?"

The driver, a disheveled-looking white male, took one glance at him and promptly swerved almost across the traffic. "Whoa, there!" Peter cried, righting himself easily.

The driver frantically swiveled the steering wheel left and right, trying to dislodge his unwanted passenger. Clearly, the man had no intention of stopping.

Peter shot out several lines to surrounding buildings. Most stuck on the brickwork, but one line grabbed a large potted plant beside an entrance. The ficus came flying toward him, as the other lines snapped. The car's speed and momentum were too great. He caught the base of the pot, and webbed it to a light pole as they passed.

_All right, I guess this will take a hands-on approach._ "I can see you are in need of a few pointers." Peter punched through the glass, and fluidly slid through to sit in the passenger seat. "Okay, students. Hands at 10 and 2. Slowly lift your foot from the gas pedal and press the brake firmly." The driver began fumbling for the weapon tucked in his belt. Peter nonchalantly snatched it away with a strand of webbing. "And for God's sake, watch out for pedestrian traffic!"

Peter reached for the steering wheel, but at the last moment, the driver jerked the wheel to the right. They plowed across the sidewalk, crashed through the front window of a storefront, and came to a stop a mere foot from the counter. The car alarm pealed and the air bags deployed, momentarily trapping the driver and Peter in their seats. Peter began coughing due to dust and debris. "The brake, man, I said the brake…" he coughed. He poked through the fabric of the air bag, deflating it enough to escape the car.

Opening the car door, he found himself tripping over greenery. He shook his head to clear it. It looked as if the driver was shaken, but unhurt. And it wouldn't be difficult to keep him inside until the police arrived, whose sirens he could still hear in the distance.

He looked around the room to see if anyone in the store had been injured by the crash. There was a mess of plants, pots and flowers around the broken plate glass window, and the clerk was still staring in shock. Her customer held a flower arrangement in his hands, mouth open.

"Everyone okay in here?" he asked, concerned, as they both nodded silently. _Wait a minute, this place looks familiar…_

He stepped through the broken window, out onto the sidewalk and looked up at the sign. _MORTON'S FLOWERS_. Peter dropped his masked head into his hands. _Oh, my God. The florist for our wedding…_

-------------------------


	2. Chapter 2: Preparations

**A/N: I want to thank my regular reviewers for these stories: Georgia Kennedy, Mark C, hazelle, willflourish, Jenn1, betty brant, Knottaclue, LordLanceahlot, Ratdogtwo, cheri1, ashthedragon, and Ziggybuttercup. Anyone who has reviewed even once gets my undying thanks! I have noticed several writers using their author's note to answer questions posed in the reviews or respond to comments. So here goes:**

_Ziggybuttercup: I like to throw in bits of foreshadowing when I can. I think it makes a second reading a lot more fun. I also had fun with Peter's joking around. I felt it was time for my version of the character to display more of that side of his split personality._

_Jenn1: I love one-shots, but I have never been able to think of any! I like yours a lot - keep them coming. I am not sure how long this will turn out to be - my outline now has 10 chapters._

_LordLanceahlot: I'm glad you like the idea! I had been wracking my brains for a new idea, and this one just hit me on a lunch break._

_Mark C: Thanks. The old Parker luck plays a big part in this story. As for the florist and MJ's reaction, well, read on. _

**Finally, thank you to hazelle and my DH (dear husband), who are beta-ing this story.**

Best Wishes

Chapter 2: Preparations

Peter lay on Aunt May's couch, head in Mary Jane's lap. She stroked her fingers through his hair, enjoying the way his thick hair slid through her fingers. His bright blue eyes were closed. The tension that had lined his face when they first arrived was starting to disperse through her ministrations. He moaned softly. "Thank you, MJ. This feels _so_ good."

"You're welcome. This is what I'm here for." She smiled at the way he was melting beneath her touch.

MJ could hear the clatter of pots and pans coming from the kitchen. Aunt May was busily preparing them dinner. She had offered to help, but May had waved her away with a fond smile. "You take care of my boy, dear. He looks like he could use it." This was followed with an _if-you-know-what-I-mean_ kind of look that often passed between them ever since they both found out 'the secret.'

Peter shifted in her lap, and the tension returned to his features. "I don't know what we're going to do, MJ. We only have four short weeks before the wedding. How are we going to find a florist, not to mention a new reception site?"

"Honestly, Peter, I thought it was the _bride_ who got herself into a tizzy over wedding details," MJ told him, highly amused. "Our guest list is small. No one is expecting anything fancy. We could probably have pizza delivered to the park and everyone would be happy."

Aunt May had come through the kitchen doors during Mary Jane's last remark, and stopped. She made a face. "Oh, darlings, surely not."

Peter sat up from her lap, and sighed. "I'm afraid it may come to that, Aunt May. Most caterers are booked up for months in advance during wedding season. And don't get me started on that fiasco with the florist..."

MJ tried to console Peter, "How could you have predicted what would happen? Or that the shop would close for renovations for the next 8 weeks? Maybe we'll have to call every flower shop in Manhattan, or failing that, pick up a bunch of bouquets at the grocery store."

Aunt May shook her head as she set a platter of food on the table. "You kids. Don't give up hope just yet. I know in my heart that everything will work out for the best. You both deserve it."

"I hope you're right, Aunt May. I'm going to go wash up before dinner." With that, Peter excused himself and left the room.

MJ turned back to May. "The table is beautiful. Where did you find this centerpiece?"

"I agree, isn't it lovely? A friend sent it recently as a late housewarming gift."

The younger woman changed the subject. "How is the 'registry' going?"

"Don't be nosy, young lady," May teased. "Most of your guests have responded to me and decided on which gifts to purchase. But I'm not going to ruin the surprise by telling you what and who!" She continued placing dishes on the table.

Mary Jane laughed. It was worth a try. "It was a wonderful idea you had to take charge of the list. We don't want a nosy reporter, _again_, to find out any of the details, not to mention Harry. Those department stores will give _anyone_ a copy of your registry."

May sighed. "I still wish we could have run a newspaper announcement..."

Peter came back from the bathroom. "I know you would have liked to have it for the family scrapbook. But just imagine the problems my photo would cause, especially matched with MJ's, so soon after the scandal last summer. We only have four weeks to go. You'll have wedding photos to treasure soon enough." Suddenly Peter stilled. He looked intensely around the room.

Both women had grown skilled at interpreting that look. "Trouble, hon?" MJ asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Peter closed his eyes and shook his head quickly. "I thought I felt something, but it's gone now. Maybe there was a close call in traffic nearby."

"Thank goodness," May breathed. "You won't have to reheat leftovers tonight. We can enjoy a dinner together. It happens less often than I would like, you know," she chided.

"With my luck, I'm surprised that I even get to eat at all." They all laughed knowingly, and sat down to share the meal.

* * *

Harry sat in his father's leather armchair, breathing deeply. Eyes closed, he made his mind blank. He had found that his father's voice troubled him less in this state. However, he also found his mind seemed less sharp, less focused, the longer it had been since his last injection. Several months ago, he had first tried his father's serum. Only a small dose, just to see what would happen.

When it took effect, it had been a revelation. He felt stronger, smarter, faster all at once. Brilliant ideas filled his mind. What rose to his mind first was the need for preparation. His father had been strong, wily, a force of nature. But even with all those qualities, he had been defeated by Spider-Man. Harry needed time to build his strength, his skill. He needed time to plan, and most of all he needed to find a time to strike when Peter would be most vulnerable.

Since then, Harry had taken monthly trips to upstate New York. Alone in the forest, he practiced using the glider. He had increased his speed, his ability to bank and turn, his ability to fight in mid-air. The rest of the month he did research, listened to rumors, and kept tabs on Mary Jane and May. He made sure to never make any contact with Peter himself.

For all the advantages, there were definite disadvantages to using the serum. The voice strengthened, and often encouraged him to act rashly. And each time he took the serum, the effects wore off faster and he seemed to need just a little bit more. He was now taking triple the original dose. He found the increase in amount inversely proportional to his self-control. More than once he had lashed out at an employee for no good reason. He always apologized later, but he knew there were whispers about his sanity floating around the company.

Thankfully, he was beginning to feel ready. Only a few more months of training and he should be able to hit Peter with the full force of his weaponry, wits and strength. Harry got up from the chair and moved to the laptop at his heavy oak desk. He lifted the monitor, and double-clicked an icon on the desktop. To the casual eye, the file seemed to be a spreadsheet. When opened, it revealed a video monitoring program. He clicked _Connect_ and waited for the stream to filter and begin. When it did, he could see a grainy image of a young woman's lower body. Only the voice made him sure who he was seeing. _"...idea you had to take charge of the list. We don't want a nosy reporter, _again_, to find out any of the details, not to mention Harry. Those department stores will give _anyone _a copy of your registry_." Mary Jane.

A voice out of the view of the tiny camera spoke next. "_I still wish we could have run a newspaper announcement..._" May.

From behind Mary Jane, he saw Peter approach the table. "_I know you would have liked to have it for the family scrapbook. But just imagine the problems my photo would cause, especially matched with MJ's, so soon after the scandal last summer. We only have four weeks to go. You'll have wedding photos to treasure soon enough_."

_So, the wedding is only four weeks away, _Harry realized. He had assumed it would happen eventually, the way they had been all over each other last summer.

In the video feed, he saw Peter freeze, and look quickly around. Harry clicked _Disconnect_ immediately. Harry had hoped that sending the centerpiece to May under the name of a friend would work. After all, it would not be unusual for one of her old friends to send something like that. His research had paid off; she had obviously placed it exactly where he had wanted.

Regarding Peter, his suspicions had been correct. Hewas glad he had learned about Peter's 'spider-sense.' It had foiled him before, and this time, he would not allow that to happen. Even though the camera was tiny, and the only connection Harry had to it was through a wireless link, Peter had detected something amiss. If he was lucky, disconnecting would end Peter's wariness. He would be able to spy on May with impunity. If not, he had mined a golden nugget of information already.

They were obviously trying to protect the date and location of the wedding from him. Well, there had to be others involved in the preparations - a bakery, a minister, a florist, a photographer, etc. Given his resources, he would uncover what they wished to keep hidden soon enough.

He looked over at a package sitting on a table next to the study door. May's home was now monitored. It was time to prepare the next location...


	3. Chapter 3: Connections

**A/N: Keep the reviews coming! **

_Jenn 1: Yeah, I never found a good place to use May in EM. I'm glad I can do more with her. And I wonder what you are thinking with Harry..._

_Ziggybuttercup: They have quite a few surprises coming... The other package will not be a mystery for long._

_Georgia Kennedy: Peter's bad luck and "normalness" amid his superhero life are what make Spider-Man one of my favorites. I have always thought that in order to make Harry a believeable GG2, he needed to try a different approach than his father. With his drinking problems (and eventual drug problems in the comics), using the serum will never be an easy fix. (And thanks again for catching stuff)._

_LordLanceahlot: Poor Peter indeed. And his troubles are only beginning._

_Mark C: May is such a rock in the storm. She worries, but basically has faith that Peter is doing the right thing. Peter has learned a lesson about ignoring his spider-sense, but Harry is looking for a way around it._

_Knottaclue: Thanks for the compliment on my writing style. I have noticed that my sentences tend to be to the point. I have always considered it a bit of a shortfall, since I don't do much with descriptive passages. I think it's because I skim right through those when I read other fiction. ;) I'm glad you're enjoying Harry - he is not his father, whose insanity and unpredictability coupled with genius made him really dangerous. Harry will go about this in his own way._

_hazelle: I think Harry is going to be fun to write in this story. Keeping them apart will be an interesting trick._

Best Wishes

Chapter 3: Connections

Mary Jane dropped her keys on the table, balancing packages, mail and her purse in her arms. Peter would still be at the _Bugle_ until dinnertime, at least, unless he had an assignment to get to. _Or a disturbance_, she laughed to herself. It had become their little private joke, since he had used that tired excuse a million times before she knew about his alter-ego.

She set everything down, glancing at the answering machine. Nothing there. She then looked again at the packages. Something from Louise, interesting! An early wedding gift perhaps? Then she picked up a smaller box marked _Wedding-Invitations Dot Com._ Mary Jane slapped her forehead. _The invitations!_ They would be all wrong, now that the reception was up in the air. Opening the box, she read through the text they had selected: _"Peter Parker and Mary Jane Watson cordially invite you to celebrate the occasion of their marriage, May Sixth, at 5 o'clock in the evening, Cedar Hill, Central Park. Reception will follow at the Royal Park Hotel. 'Love bears all things.'"_

Mary Jane sighed. They were so beautiful, too. Cream-colored with red script lettering and a watermark of a bouquet in the background. Yet another thing she and Peter were going to have to reorganize. She set them down on the table, and began to reach for the other package from Louise, but a magazine in the stack of mail caught her eye. Ah, the new issue of her favorite entertainment magazine. They should probably open the package from Louise together, just in case it was a wedding gift. She took the magazine over to the sofa, propped her feet on the coffee table, and began to read.

This had become a Friday ritual for her, to read through the magazine cover to cover. Peter was almost never at home until much later, and he never found anything interesting in it, except maybe the book reviews. There were a couple of newsy articles at the beginning about the summer movie season and deals in development. She always read these things carefully just in case an audition came her way. She started to flip past the announcements page, but then noticed a picture of one of her screen idols of yesteryear. The photo came under the heading _Deaths_. _Oh, I hadn't heard,_ she thought. After reading the brief obituary, she scanned the rest of the page. Her eyes caught at the top of the page.

_"**Engaged:** Model/actress **Mary Jane Watson**, 22, to photographer Peter Parker. Wedding date is set for early May."_ She blinked and read it again. Still there. No photo, but clearly correct. _Oh, no. Peter will flip!_

She bounced up from the sofa, dug hurriedly in her purse for her cell phone, and dialed her agent's number. _"Walters Talent Agency, how may I help you?"_ the receptionist stated in a nasal tone.

"Hi, Beth, is Chrissy there? This is Mary Jane Watson."

_"Just a minute, Miss Watson, I'll get her on the line."_

After a pause and a click, an overly friendly voice came on, _"Mary Jane! How are things? What can I do for you?"_

Annoyed, MJ asked pointedly, "Chrissy, did you tell anyone about my engagement? After I explicitly asked you not to?"

The agent spluttered and rapidly tried to explain. _"Only an agent friend of mine. She invited me to a party in the Hamptons. I had to tell her I was attending your wedding that same weekend."_

MJ's tone turned icy. "Well, her tongue must have been as loose as yours. You can call her back and let her know you're coming after all."

_"What, I mean, am I not--" Mary Jane snapped the phone shut. And the woman had had the nerve to describe herself as 'discreet.'_

After taking a deep breath, MJ speed dialed Peter's cell. It went straight to voice mail. "Tiger, I've got some bad news..."

* * *

Laurie Peters flipped through her magazine lazily. It was a slow afternoon. Her team had easily assembled the flower arrangements for the weekend and made most of the deliveries for the day. All of the weddings were going to be small-ish affairs, and there were no funerals to do. Their Easter lily orders were all set to go.

The phone rang. She answered, "Classics in Flowers."

_"Hi,"_ the prospective customer greeted_. "I am planning a wedding for the middle of July. Do you have any openings?"_

Laurie looked again at her calendar, but she already knew the answer. "I'm sorry, ma'am. We are booked solid all the way through August. Would you like me to take your name and number just in case we have a cancellation?"

Laurie took down the name and number, wrote down the wedding date, and filed it in her Rolodex. She got 5-10 calls a week like that during peak wedding season. She felt sorry for them, but at least business was always booming.

She always made it a point to check the announcements page of the entertainment pages in any magazine or newspaper. Her shop wasn't a high volume business, but they did quality work. It always interested her to see who got the call when a famous person needed flowers.

Mary Jane Watson. That was ringing a bell somewhere in her mind. _Where do I know that name?_ Curious, she did a web search for it on the desk computer. The name popped up in theater reviews, photo shoots, the Emma Rose Parfumerie home page, and near the bottom of the page of search results, the Daily Tattler web site.

She clicked the link, and found an article, _"Spider-Man Photo Hoax."_ Ding-ding-ding. This is where she had heard it. She had been keenly interested in the story back when it hit the news.

From deep inside, an overwhelming sense of gratitude filled her, bringing tears to her eyes. She looked again, as she did a million times a day, at the photo of her family displayed proudly on the edge of the counter. She thanked God every day for them - she would not be here today to love them if not for Spider-Man.

She had been in that train car that had nearly plummeted from its elevated track. She had witnessed the battle between Spider-Man and Doc Ock, and been one of the lucky few to see the young hero without his mask. They had sworn a vow of secrecy that day. Many of them still kept in contact. She herself had a list of names, a ready-made support group.

She grabbed a tissue and dabbed her eyes. It didn't take much to set off the waterworks this last year. She had felt lucky to be alive. She looked at the name beside Mary Jane Watson. _Well, he's probably some famous photographer if a beautiful model like that is marrying him._ So she performed a similar search on that name. Every result was similar. _The Daily Bugle._ Curious, she clicked a few links. With growing wonder, she discovered that nearly every photo ever published of Spider-Man was taken by Parker.

She had a sudden thought, and decided to act on it. Grabbing one of her business cards, she called to the back room, "I'm heading out for an hour or so. Can you mind the store?"

Megan came from the back. "Yeah, sure. Where are you going?"

"I'm going to _The Daily Bugle_ to drop off some advertising." She left without allowing Megan a chance to respond.

Laurie stepped out of the elevators. She had purposely skipped the ad department. If anyone asked, she would just pretend she was lost. The newsroom was abuzz with activity. People answered phones, tapped at computers, called out to each other. A gruff voice shouted something from the corner office. She wandered toward the secretary's desk, trying to look like she belonged there. Fortunately, the amount of activity made her nearly invisible.

Without being too obvious, she looked at every person with a camera around his neck. All seemed too old, or not quite right to be Watson's fiancé. He might be sitting at a desk. She walked nonchalantly around the room, glancing at name plates. Finally, she saw the one she was looking for. _Peter Parker._ The seat was empty, no coat across the back, no half-finished coffee, computer shut down. He must be out on an assignment.

She felt a tap on her shoulder. "Excuse me, ma'am. Can I help you?" A pretty young woman with a short black bob stood there.

Playing dumb, she replied, "I must be lost. I would like to turn in an ad for my flower shop."

The young woman smiled and gestured toward the elevators. "You have the wrong floor. Advertising is one floor below this."

"Oh, thank you." She tried to sound grateful, but was secretly disappointed. She had hoped that this Peter Parker might be able to help her thank Spider-Man properly. He might be able to give the superhero a message or gift.

When she was only 20 feet from the mirrored glass of the elevators, they opened. A young white man and a tall, older African-American man were talking as they exited. Laurie hastily stifled a gasp.

"Robbie, let me just pull some photos from my files, and I'll be right over to your desk," the younger of the two said.

"Sure, Peter, take your time," nodded the older man.

She watched the two of them pass her. Stepping back to lean a hand against a supporting pillar, she kept watching as the younger man sat at Peter Parker's desk and dug in the file cabinet beside it.

She would never forget that face, and now she had a name to go with it. Spider-Man was getting _married._ Taking a deep breath, she quietly left the newsroom and headed for the advertising department.


	4. Chapter 4: Agendas

**A/N: I love it when you review quickly - it causes me to want to update quickly, too!**

_LordLanceahlot: I often wonder if those passengers are going to show up in Spider-Man 3. I think that there are so many possibilities with those people. I'm having fun finding my own spin._

_Jenn1: Whether the present is innocent or not will come out in good time, I promise. I'll let you have first crack at Harry if you want.. ;)_

_Georgia Kennedy: I love Mary Jane, too. She is strong, and Peter needs that. I have not been trying to give anything much away in this experiment with responding to reviews. I love rhetorical questions, though. They help me think through ideas sometimes that I may not have fully considered._

_Mark C: I wanted to balance the good luck with the bad. Thanks for the compliments about both scenes._

_Ziggybuttercup: You have officially joined the ranks of my very frequent reviewers! I sometimes wait to post the next chapter after all of my "regulars" have reviewed. As for the mysteries - I will keep everyone in the dark as much as possible, when I can._

_Ashthedragon: Great to hear from you again. This story is probably the conclusion of this arc - but I plan to continue writing Spider-Man. I think I will jump into the future a ways, and blend with the comicverse._

Best Wishes

Chapter 4: Agendas

A series of checkmarks lined the side of the wrinkled piece of notebook paper. Laurie ran her finger down to the next name on the list. She quickly dialed the digits, excitement still making her shake a little.

_"Hello?"_ the voice answered. Good, she was hoping to get Carrie immediately.

"Carrie? Hi, it's Laurie. From the train." That was the only identifier the group used when contacting each other.

_"Oh, hi, Laurie. What's up?"_ The two of them had met for coffee a few times, but didn't know each other that well.

Even though she was in her kitchen, all alone - her husband had taken the kids to the park - she still lowered her voice. "I've found a way to thank _him_ properly. I - I stumbled into to finding out his name, even where he works."

_"No kidding? Who - no, wait. Better if I don't know."_

Laurie smiled. It was amazing how many of them had had the exact same reaction. After the way they were all hounded during the scandal, knowing nothing, to know anything would have been a hundred times worse. "Yeah, I think the fewer know details, the better. Anyway, I just found out he's getting _married._ Would you help chip in for a gift?"

_"Married? Wow, yeah, I'll chip in. I guess even superheroes have a life. He was the right age, wasn't he?" _She stopped for a second. _"Is it to that actress?"_

"I -" Laurie started to deny, but thought, _if I figured it out, anyone on the train could. _"Well, if you must know -"

_"There I go again, don't need to know. Hey, he wants to keep his private life and public life separate. I can respect that. What are we getting them?"_

"I'm not sure yet. When I figure out what they need, I'll let you know."

_"Great. Call me later, then. 'Bye."_

Laurie set the phone down. What _did_ one buy for a superhero/photographer and his actress fiancée? Between making calls, she had called nearly every department store and gift shop she knew from her own background in wedding preparation. Not one of them had a listing for Parker _or_ Watson. Was the listing in the magazine correct?

There was either an error, or the two were keeping it very quiet. She was afraid to call Parker directly. She didn't want him worried about what they would do with his identity. It was very important to let him know that they were grateful, and had no hidden agendas.

She sighed and looked to the next name on the list. _Thomas Roundtree._ Only a few more names to go. She dialed, and got an answering machine. "Hey, Thomas. This is Laurie Peters, from the train. Give me a call at 555-1576. I have a project I need some help with."

* * *

_Another evening eating alone._ Mary Jane sat at the table, eating a chef salad. All in all, there had been little reaction to the entertainment magazine mention of their engagement. A few people in the cast of her new show who hadn't already been invited to the wedding congratulated her. Her agent had tried to call and apologize a few more times, but MJ was not returning the calls.

As she ate, her eyes kept drifting to Louise's package. With everything going on, she hadn't remembered to tell Peter about it. And she had never been very good at keeping presents unopened. Finally, before she could think twice and feel guilty, she got up, grabbed the package, and brought it to the table. Using a pair of scissors, she sliced open the tape. Inside was a neatly wrapped present and a card. The outside of the card read - _"An early wedding gift." _She carefully opened the card to find a small printed note. _"Remember, you have all the time in the world to love each other. Love, Louise."_

"How sweet," MJ said to herself. The gift inside was wrapped in silver paper. She pulled it out of the box, placed it on the counter, and studied it.

She threw away the packing peanuts and broke down the box.

She lifted the silver package and examined it from all angles.

She shook it, a little.

She put it back on the counter, laughing at herself. _Am I six years old? Either open it, or wait for Peter to get home._ It only took a millisecond to decide. With a bit of glee, she tore off the wrapping and opened the carton inside.

It was a beautiful mahogany desk clock. _All the time in the world..._ She knew just the place for this, on the bedroom dresser, where she could see it when she woke up.

After settling it in its place of honor, she sat on the bed. Louise's gift had gotten her thinking about other wedding preparations. They still didn't have a reception site, no florist within a ten-mile radius would even speak to them, and _oh, yeah! The wedding dress._

She moved to the phone on the bedside table, flipped in the phone book beside it, and dialed the number.

_"...a nice day. Hello?"_

"Is this Big Apple Cleaners?"

_"Yes, I'm sorry, I was distracted by a customer. How may I help you?"_

"I was having some alterations made on a wedding dress. Under the name of Watson. Is the dress ready yet?"

_"Excuse me, just a minute, let me check my files."_

Mary Jane waited patiently. She had found a nice off-the-rack dress, a tenth of the cost of the one John's parents had bought for her. When she had tried it on, it had fit perfectly. Only now, it was a bit too large. Her newest stage role involved a lot of dancing. Her muscles were better toned than they had ever been - but her dress didn't quite fit anymore.

_"Miss? It looks like we'll have it ready for you Tuesday."_

"Tuesday? All right, I'll be in to get it then. Thank you." She placed the receiver back in the cradle. For quite a few moments she imagined Peter's first glimpse of her in the dress. He already looked at her like she was the most beautiful woman in the world. She smiled dreamily, and lay back on the pillow.

If she had had enhanced hearing, she might have heard a soft click from across the room.


	5. Chapter 5: Curiosity

**A/N: Thanks everyone for the reviews.**

_Mark C: You have some good guesses about what's coming up, but there are still surprises in store._

_Ziggybuttercup: As my Aussie friend used to say, "Well spotted!" The title "Agendas" meant exactly that._

_Georgia Kennedy: "Htb." I like it. Actually, only the B stands for my first name, have fun guessing. :) I wish I could say that I was the first to do a story centering around the train passengers, but alas, a couple others have beaten me to it. If you go to my profile page, and click Favorite Stories, enjoy the lovely "Strangers on a Train" by Jen K, "We can't all keep secrets" by closetfan, and "Just a Face on a Train" by katheryne._

_Jenn1: I realized today that I have been writing Laurie just like my mother-in-law, a wonderful bubbly woman who exists only to brighten others' day. She is full of ideas, half of which one can never use, but you appreciate that she's thinking about you. It's nice to have a good relationship with her._

_hazelle: I'm glad you think it's better with that ending - I did too. Isn't it fun to see the it progress from idea to full-fledged story? I do have the story plotted out scene by scene, but I always make changes based on how previous scenes play out. I have shortened, merged and lengthened things already several times. It's basically what I sent you, but with the Harry sub-plot added in._

Best Wishes

Chapter 5: Curiosity

Peter flipped through the pages of _The Daily Bugle_, sitting idly at his desk. Jameson was paying him full-time as a photographer - why couldn't he get any decent photo credits that weren't of Spider-Man? Once again, a photo he had taken was buried in the back amid the advertisements.

He then noticed a small ad, the smallest size they sold, of a flower shop. _Classics in Flowers._ He didn't recognize the name - had they called this place yet? Well, it was worth a try, anyway.

He placed the phone under his ear, and gave them a call.

"Classics in Flowers, how may I help you?"

A tired, but hopeful sounding voice replied, _"I hope you can help me. Our wedding is in almost three weeks - and our florist has had to cancel on us. Do you have anything available May 6th?"_

Immediately, Laurie answered, "I'm sorry, we are booked that day. Would you like me to take your name and number if there is a cancellation?"

The voice sighed. _"Sure, I was kind of expecting that answer, but I thought I'd try anyway. My name is Peter Parker, telephone number -"_

Laurie jolted in her seat, words tumbling out. "Oh, wait a minute, I think I was looking at _June _6th." It wasn't true, but how could she pass this up? "We _do_ have an opening for May 6th."

_"Oh, thank goodness. My fiancée, Mary Jane, and I had been joking that the grocery store would be our florist. You don't know how happy I am that at least _something _is working out with this wedding."_

"Really, what other troubles have you had?" She tried to sound as if she were just making small talk.

_"To begin with, a car accident ruined the shop of our original florist, we lost our reception site, and our invitations are now incorrect." _He seemed glad to be getting his problems off his chest. _"And there are other things I can't even go into. To be honest, I would not be surprised if my bad luck ran true and we had to get married by a passerby on a median."_ He laughed.

He sounded so... normal! That a man like this, correction, an _amazing _man, could talk as if his greatest problems were his wedding arrangements! She shook her head in wonder. Well, she may not have been gifted as he was, but she did have some power to help. "You know, we offer an 'express wedding special.' We can arrange for your catering, reception, invitations, photographer, a chapel and a minister. As well as anything else you might need." She was making this up on the fly, but heck, this was Spider-Man!

_"Wow. How much would it cost? We don't really have a large budget."_

Of course. He did what he did with no recompense. No _wonder_ he had to work as a photographer for that rag. "I can offer you a 10 discount over what you would pay for separate services."

_"Well, let's see. We have a minister and ceremony location reserved already, and a photographer friend of mine is handling the pictures. But can we just order flowers, catering, reception and invitations?"_

"Sure, Mr... was it Parker?" she asked oh-so-casually.

_"Yes, Peter Parker."_

"When can you and your fiancée come in for a design meeting?" Laurie took down all of Peter's information, smiling broadly. After he hung up, she couldn't quite believe her luck. She would be an integral part of the wedding festivities.

But she couldn't do it all by herself. Overflowing with excitement, she pulled out 'The List.'

* * *

By the time Peter arrived at the site of the fire, it had spread to a whole city block. He had been nearly across town when his spider-sense demanded that he go home. _Now._ He had been wracked with fear that something was happening to Mary Jane or Aunt May. But at this moment, swinging toward the blazing mess, he knew this was what he was being warned about.

The fire was a mere three blocks away from their apartment. Fire poured out the windows of a row of shops. Several patrons of the corner diner were gathered together, talking worriedly. He landed nearby, asking, "Did everyone get out?" The fire department hadn't yet arrived.

A man wearing a T-shirt and greasy apron called over, "Everyone's outta our place. These other places've been closed for a couple hours."

"Thanks, I'll go check."

As he leaped into action, he heard the guy comment, "It happened so fast..."

Peter landed on the rooftop. Going from building to building he 'felt' for anyone in danger. Happily, everyone seemed to have gotten out in time. The fact that it had happened after hours had made a difference. The first fire trucks began arriving on the scene. Now that the fire would be kept under control, and all the people were safe, there was nothing more to do.

So, why did his spider-sense go off? Would the fire spread to the next block? He was still feeling a vague sense of unease - but not the kind that signaled a human life in danger. Curiosity getting the best of him, he swung out of sight and changed to his street clothes.

Peter walked up behind the crowd and caught the eye of another man. "Hey, what's going on?" he asked, gawking at the sight.

"Whole block is on fire, but the fire department just arrived. Spider-Man also came through looking for people trapped inside." The man started to turn away.

"Were you in any of the buildings?" Peter continued.

He turned back, distracted. "Yeah, the corner diner. We all got out before the fire spread to that building."

"So it must not have started there," Peter surmised.

A woman who had been listening in on their conversation jumped in. "No, I don't think it did, but it sure moved quickly to the other buildings. One moment, I was eating my supper, the next, boom! Almost like an explosion."

Someone else added, "It was weird. A bunch of us near the doorway looked out and saw flames shooting out of the windows of the place two or three doors down. Then it started some sort of chain reaction."

"Whoa," Peter said. "That must have been scary."

"You're telling me!" the last speaker said, and they all turned as one back to the action.

Peter strolled away, dropping out of sight. For some reason, what seemed like a simple fire was nagging at him. He hung around, literally, until the fire was only ashes and the crowd had dispersed. Swinging down back in costume, he alighted next to the fire inspector, who was digging through the rubble, flashlight in hand.

"Oh, Spider-Man, I heard you were here before. Did you see this happen?" He looked at Peter without a trace of suspicion.

It was nice to be treated like a public servant instead of a suspected criminal. "Arrived after it was already going strong. No one got hurt, as far as I could tell."

"Yeah, that was lucky. But there's something strange about it that I can't put my finger on..." His eyes narrowed, and he continued to step carefully through the wreckage.

"I'll see what I can sense, if you don't mind," Peter offered.

"Sure, I could use the extra set of eyes."

Peter used his intuition, like a psychic Geiger counter. It was leading him toward one area in particular. He lifted beams and concrete carefully out of the way, trying to find the source of his feeling. Under a pile of charred brick, he found a tiny scrap of metal. As soon as he touched it, his spider-sense flared.

"What do you make of this?" Peter called out to the inspector, holding it aloft.

The inspector took it in a latex-covered hand and turned it under the beam of the flashlight. "I can't tell _what _it was. Do you think it had something to do with the fire?"

"I do. I can't tell you why, though." He shrugged.

"Well," he said, taking a plastic evidence bag out of a pocket and placing it inside, "I can have the lab check it out, just in case."

Peter sensed that that little bit of metal had everything to do with this strange fire, but how? He decided to let the professionals at the lab figure that out. Bidding the inspector goodbye, Peter headed for home. On the way, he thought, _was I imagining it, or did that piece of metal seem to be slightly... orange?_


	6. Chapter 6: Threads

**A/N: I guess everyone is busy with their own writing this weekend... :) Thanks to the three of you:**

_Jenn1: I hope it's a "good" bad feeling you are getting. I wonder what your story idea is...?_

_Ziggybuttercup: Thanks. I hope you enjoy the train passengers' involvement as the story goes along._

_Mark C: I enjoy reading your summaries of the chapter. It helps me confirm whether the reader has caught everything, and what things I need to make more clear._

Best Wishes

Chapter 6: Threads

"Do you like these flowers better than the ones we had picked out before?" Peter asked. The two of them sat at their kitchen table, making final decisions. They had met with their florist, Ms. Peters, earlier that afternoon. Luckily, Monday was a night off for both of them.

"Hmm?" Mary Jane was staring at him distractedly. She started and looked down at the page he was referring to. "Oh, yes, these are just a little nicer, don't you think?"

"I think so if you think so. You're the one who will be carrying them," he demurred.

"I think so, then."

Peter marked the page with a sticky note, then closed the binder. Beneath was a list of items for the caterer. They were having cake and hors d'oeuvres only. Peter had marked the ones he thought they could afford. "Which of these do you think we should get?"

She was not looking at the list. He looked up at her and found a goofy grin on her face. "Well?" Peter asked again.

She glanced down and picked up her pencil. "How about these?" She marked 5 or 6 items.

"Okay, are we going with white, chocolate or red velvet for the cake?"

"How about red velvet with blue icing?"

Peter looked up again at her, momentarily confused. Then he nudged her shoulder with his fist. "Oh, niiiice. Shall we add black webbing in licorice?"

MJ giggled. "And one of your action figures next to the bride."

"And then... ah, no, I can't top that." Peter cleared his throat, and looked at her askance. "What's up? Not in the mood? You want to deal with this later?"

Mary Jane smiled secretively, but said, "I'm sorry. I keep thinking about our meeting earlier." She took a breath and continued. "I'm thinking I'm glad I'm getting you off the market."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Didn't you notice how the florist looked at you? So intense, like she was memorizing every detail. And the way she hung on your every word. It was like I wasn't even there," MJ smirked.

"I, uh..." Peter blushed.

"I think she might have a crush on you, Peter Parker." Her smile was widening.

"What? No, she's married with kids - she had a picture of them on her desk." _Is Mary Jane just yanking my chain?_

"So? Plenty of married women fantasize about other men. Not that _I_ will, of course. I already have my fantasy guy." She patted his hand, and stood up, starting to move away from the table.

"And who could ask for a more fantastic woman?" He stopped her by grasping her hand and kissing it gently. "Seriously, she was nice, but more like an older sister. She had a familiar air about her..." He had felt right at home with Ms. Peters, like she already had surmised everything they would need. He was lucky to have found her shop.

Peter stood up himself, and came around to MJ's side of the table. He threaded his arms through hers from behind, and placed his hands on her waist. "I know who has a crush on you," he whispered in her ear.

She swiveled in his arms and laced her hands behind his head. "I figured _that_ one out ages ago." She kissed him tenderly.

Before they knew it, they were kissing more urgently, and moving toward the bedroom. Falling with her on top of the covers, Peter stopped for breath. "May 6th can't come soon enough."

"Do you think we'll make it through the reception?" she said, nuzzling his ear.

A year ago, when they had first become intimate, Peter and Mary Jane had made love passionately, as if they were trying to make up for lost time. Since then, they had learned to slow down and enjoy each other fully. Removing clothing became a languorous process.

They intended to use the night off wisely.

* * *

Harry sat down at his desk. _It's time to check on MJ._

What he saw when the connection established turned his stomach. Though the picture was grainy, the sight and sounds of Peter and Mary Jane's 'activity' were enough to make him retch.

But oddly enough, he couldn't stop watching with a mix of fascination and anger. When he and Mary Jane had been together, she had hardly allowed him to kiss her, let alone touch her the way Peter was at this moment. His hand hovered over the touchpad.

Suddenly Peter's head pivoted, eyes focused directly toward the camera.

* * *

"What's wrong, Peter?" Mary Jane asked in a confused tone of voice.

He leapt out of bed, and came to stand before the tall dresser. "How long have we had this clock, MJ?"

Mary Jane pulled the sheets around her, nonplussed by the way he had broken off their lovemaking. "A couple of days now, why?"

"It's gone now, but for a few minutes, I felt a sense of danger coming from it. Where did you get it?"

"It was a gift from Louise." Mary Jane was still a little shaken.

He turned and looked at her intently. "She gave it to you directly?"

"No, it came in the mail…" MJ was starting to understand his unease.

Peter switched on the light, picked up the desk clock and started to pry off the back. "Forgive me, Louise," he apologized before the back splintered off onto the top of the dresser. Now that he could see inside, he noticed a bit of wiring spliced to the mechanism. Attached to this was a tiny pencil-eraser sized lens.

He tore it from the wiring and held it closer to the light for a minute as he examined it. "This was never a standard feature." He handed it to MJ.

"Is this a.. oh, my God," she blushed. "Do you think we were just being spied on?"

"The way I reacted to it? I would bet on it." His eyes narrowed in anger as he thought about what the spy had seen. "Who would do this? Are they after you or me?" He then sat on the bed beside her. "What could they have seen or heard?"

Mary Jane thought a minute. "Well, if you didn't notice it until just now, it must have only been turned on when you weren't home, right?"

"Most likely."

"I guess it might have recorded me sleeping, or changing clothes." She grimaced. She looked to the bedside table where she had laid a receipt. "Or any telephone calls." Picking up the scrap of paper, her face turned pale.

"Didn't you say the other night that you were investigating a fire? What street was it on again?"

"Lorraine Street. Why?"

MJ handed him the paper. It was a receipt for alterations on her wedding dress. He looked to the top of the slip: _"Big Apple Cleaners, 56 Lorraine St."_


	7. Chapter 7: Alterations

**A/N: Even though I have discovered the "private message" feature - I will publicly respond as much as possible. I like to recognize you guys!**

_Jenn1: Yeah, Harry's become pretty devious. I imagine him reacting to the serum in a different way than his father did - keeps it more interesting. _

_hazelle: You know, I never even thought that someone might think MJ was dead after Ch. 5 - but cool. Cliffhangers can cause all kinds of theories that the author never considered, I guess._

_Mark C: Yes, Peter thinks she seems familiar, but I have to say, photographic memory isn't one of his powers, right? I imagine after 3 years of saving people, their faces would run together a bit. Reactions to the other things you mentioned are coming right up!_

_Ziggybuttercup: Read on and see!_

_Georgia Kennedy: I think as far as the transition between scenes in Ch. 5, I was trying to make his arrival at the fire, "just another day in the line of duty," and only slowly give the reader a chance to wonder if there was a lot more to it. With the Harry reference, I always think back to the way he tried to kiss MJ on the balcony of the building during the World Unity Festival, and she slid her face away._

Best Wishes

Chapter 7: Alterations

Lightning flashed behind him, illuminating the inside of the master bedroom. For a split second, his silhouette was eerily projected across the untouched bed. _There are no lights on anywhere in the mansion. Where could he be?_

Peter crawled across the face of the building, taking care to avoid the windows, now that he knew he could be seen. It would be impossible to enter without tripping the intrusion alarms - surely Harry would have made sure that every window, no matter how high, was monitored.

He peeked in the corner window of the study. It was too dark to see if anyone was within. Another flash of lightning revealed a figure lying still on the chaise lounge. Harry was probably all too aware that that particular piece of furniture had been the scene of two of the greatest shocks of his life. Finding his father dead, and finding out his best friend's secret identity.

Last summer, Harry had hardly come near the spot, but he had obviously come to terms with it since. _I'm still surprised he would _sleep _there..._ In the dim light, he saw the figure rise and move to the other side of the room.

Peter's first reaction to finding the camera and discovering that yet another wedding detail was in ruin had been to rush off to pummel Harry unconscious. After all, he _had _warned Harry that if he bothered Peter's family, he would do something about it. But MJ had caught his arm, reasoning with him:

_"Peter, what if it isn't Harry? Do you really want to cause him physical harm when you aren't sure?" she pleaded._

_"Of course it's Harry! That scrap of metal could _only _have been a pumpkin bomb. He must have found his father's arsenal."_

_"But the only bomb _I _ever saw Norman use disintegrated on impact. And just because it was orange, doesn't mean it was a pumpkin bomb. It could have been anything."_

_"My instincts tell me it wasn't just anything, MJ. And I have learned not to ignore them." He moved again toward the window, shaking off her grip on his arm._

_"Tiger, listen! Even if it _was _Harry, if you rush off, half-cocked, mind full of revenge, you have no idea what he is now capable of! Don't you think a little reconnaissance would be better?"_

His gut was telling him that Harry was behind this, but MJ _had_ been right. Who knew what other plans Harry had in store?

Harry stood before a full-length mirror. He seemed to press something on the wood paneling beside it, and the mirror slid to the side to reveal an opening. A light switched on inside. For a moment, Harry was fully visible in the frame of the opening. He stood erect, confident, wearing an undershirt and silk pajama pants, hair mussed a little from lying down. He then purposefully strode inside.

_Does he look... more muscular... somehow?_ Harry had never been much of an athlete, and those arms were better defined than Peter remembered.

_So there's a secret room back there... if I could only get inside._ Crashing in would defeat the purpose of reconnaissance. He watched and waited an hour, but Harry stayed inside the room. Finally, Peter gave up and went home.

Another hour later, the rain cleared, and the moon appeared again from behind the clouds. The moonlight revealed an empty syringe on the table beside the chaise lounge.

* * *

"So what do you think about their latest predicament?" Madeline Watson asked before taking another sip of tea.

"I have faith that everything will work out all right," May replied. "Peter is worried about it, Mary Jane is trying to make light of it - but those two always seem to come out of their predicaments relatively unscathed."

"They do seem to get themselves into trouble a lot, don't they?" Madeline smiled indulgently.

What May couldn't tell her was that there was a good reason they always seemed to be in trouble. She and Madeline had gotten together regularly for tea since Peter and Mary Jane had begun seeing each other. Madeline had been as relieved as she when Mary Jane had left the astronaut at the altar. _"She wasn't happy with him, even her father could see that. She just seems to glow now that she's with your dear Peter. And to tell you the truth, I wasn't thrilled to see her marry a boy with such a dangerous job,"_ Madeline had said.

May had nearly done a spit-take, but she agreed with Peter that the fewer knew 'the secret,' the better. "Yes, they do," she agreed.

"Well, I've been doing some thinking. There are only about two and a half weeks to go until the wedding, but I know you're handy with a sewing machine. I'm not great, but surely together we could create a lovely dress for Mary Jane."

"I've been doing some thinking myself." The rings they had were the ones Peter's parents had had. What if the dress had a family tradition as well? "I still have my wedding dress. I know it's somewhat old-fashioned, and too large for Mary Jane, but what if we used it as a starting point?"

Madeline's face lit up. "A fabulous idea! We could take it in, add to it, whatever she wanted!"

Suddenly the phone rang. "Just a minute, Madeline." May walked over to the phone and picked it up. "Hello?"

_"Aunt May - don't react. Pretend this is a sales call."_ Peter's voice came across the line. He sounded worried.

"Yes, this is the lady of the house. May I ask who's calling?"

_"Good. Now listen, but put a bored expression on your face. Have you received any gifts in the mail lately, out of the blue? If the answer is yes, say that you don't need a second mortgage. Don't look over at it! If it's no, say that you are happy with your television service."_

He was being so mysterious, but he probably had good reason. She thought a minute - there was the centerpiece she got a couple weeks ago. Giving Madeline an apologetic smile, she said, "I'm sorry, I don't even own a house anymore. Why would I need a second mortgage?"

_"Where did you put it? See if you can work it in to your answer."_

"Goodness gracious, no. I'm approaching 70. Why would I want to remodel my kitchen? There's just me and the occasional friend who comes to tea."

_"Aunt May, MJ and I discovered a hidden camera in a clock supposedly sent by Louise. Be very careful what you say around the gift until I get a chance to examine it. I'm coming over right now."_

"Sorry, I'm just not interested. I hope you have better luck with your next call. Good day." May hung up and came back to the table. _A hidden camera in this centerpiece?_ She hoped he was wrong. "Sorry, Madeline. You know those telemarketers."

"Always calling in the middle of something," Madeline commiserated. "About the dress..."

"Why don't we go into the bedroom so you can see it? I have it wrapped up in a protective box." May led Madeline out of the room and away from the possible recording device.

May opened the closet door and took the box off of the top shelf. She had kept it in mothballs for years, but when she moved to the smaller apartment, she had placed it in one of those new vacuum seal bags. She opened the top seal, letting air back into the bag. Then she lifted it out and shook it.

"Oh, it's lovely, May. I think it has great potential."

"I thought so, too. Oh! I just remembered. Peter said he was coming over this afternoon to talk. Could you pretend we didn't have this conversation? Just tell Mary Jane about it, okay?"

"My lips are sealed." And like magic, the doorbell rang.

"That must be him, now. I'll stall him while you put this back in the box." They nodded to each other, and May went to answer the door.

Opening the door, she cried, "Peter! So glad you could come over!" She gave him a hug that was not faked. Every time he left her, she worried it would be the last time she saw him.

"Hi, Aunt May." He gave her a kiss on the cheek. He looked around the apartment. "It's Tuesday, isn't it? Is Madeline here?"

"Yes, she's in the bedroom. We were looking at some old things of mine." She led Peter into the living room. In a low voice, she said, "The gift is a centerpiece on the kitchen table. Do you think we're far enough away from it?"

Peter stilled, closed his eyes, and then took a deep breath. "I was able to tell when the one in our place was on. If the centerpiece is bugged, it's probably switched off right now." He opened his eyes, and walked over to the table.

"Do you mind if I..." he nodded toward the centerpiece with his head.

"Of course, dear. I'll go distract Madeline." She needed to keep Madeline away from Peter until he was finished, and Peter away from Madeline until she had the box out of sight. She felt a little like the world's most unlikely double agent.

Picking up the centerpiece, Peter looked for a place where a camera could be hidden. _There_. A hairline seam between the pieces with a screw hole. Only there didn't seem to be a screw. He used brute strength to tear the centerpiece in half at the seam. It was satisfying but unnerving to find the same little camera hidden inside. But instead of tearing the camera out, he left it in place. He had an idea...

He headed for the bedroom. "Aunt May," he called. "I was just -"

The two ladies came out of the bedroom. Madeline had a package in her hands. She looked a little flustered. "Oh, hi, Peter. I wish I could stay, but I have dinner to get ready, and it's impossible to get a cab once rush hour starts." She opened the door. Before she left, she added, "Thanks for the sweater. I'm sure he'll love it."

"See you soon, Madeline." The door shut behind her.

With Madeline gone, he could talk to Aunt May about the device. They walked back over to the kitchen table so that he could show her what he had found.

"My goodness!" May marveled. "You had better destroy it!"

"Actually, I was thinking we might leave it in, if you don't mind. We could use it to our advantage." What better way to draw Harry out than to lay a trail of misinformation?


	8. Chapter 8: Drinks

**A/N: Review responses "not allowed" in stories? Okay, that sucks. But thanks to Jenn1, Georgia Kennedy, Ziggybuttercup, Mark C, and hazelle. You guys are great!**

Best Wishes

Chapter 8: Drinks

An uneaten plate of food sat on the table before him. Bernard had brought it in a half-hour ago, but every time Harry had tried to bring the fork to his mouth, he had set it back on the table. It had been a week since Peter had found the camera in their apartment. Even though he didn't feel ready yet, he was somewhat disappointed that Peter hadn't traced it back to him.

He picked up a glass of water to take a sip. The crystal water goblet shook slightly as he brought it to his lips. Whenever he felt like this – weak, shaky, disoriented – he knew it was time for his next injection. It had only been two days since the last time, and he was nearly filling the syringe to capacity these days...

However, it seemed that May's camera was still undetected. He knew she and Madeline were working on a second dress, but not where they were keeping it. _No matter_, Harry thought, _there are plans bigger than that to attend to._

He went to sit on the chaise. Filling another syringe, he inserted the needle under his skin. His breath hissed out as the fluid filled his veins like fire.

"Where'd you hear about this place, Pete?" Andy asked as they neared the entrance.

"Well, to tell you the truth," Peter grinned sheepishly, "this is kind of a research trip as well. The restaurant is catering our reception, and I wanted to make sure the food was decent."

"You chose the place without knowing what kind of food it had?" Robbie wondered.

The three of them were out together, ostensibly to observe Peter's "bachelor party." When Andy had found out that no one had anything planned, he had been shocked. Peter had tried to explain that he wasn't really interested in the whole strip-club-and-hitting-the-bars-all-nigh t thing. So he asked the only other guy he had any personal relationship with to go along, and here they all were.

_Until last year, I always thought Harry and I would be celebrating this night together..._ Shaking his head to clear the thought, he went on explaining, "It was all kind of last minute, and we've been too busy – so we went by the recommendation of our florist, who is planning several wedding details with us. She said it was nice, but within our budget."

"Well, I don't care, as long as it has a bar," Andy said, pushing his way through the doors.

Robbie gave Peter a 'why are you friends with this guy' look as they entered. Peter just shrugged. Unbeknownst to Robbie, Andy was the only person he could trust with his identity.**(1) **Everyone else just saw Andy as the schlub who had slandered Peter's fiancée.

"Welcome to _Angelo's_. Do you have a reservation?" There were several parties waiting to be seated – a good sign.

"Yes, for Parker," Peter began to say, but he was distracted by Andy, who was nodding his head sideways toward the bar, not very subtly. "Um, could we just sit at the bar?"

"Sure, right this way." The hostess seated them at three stools.

Peter took an appetizer menu, and bent over it, while Andy waved over the bartender. "What can I get for you?" he asked.

Andy ordered, "I'll have a scotch and soda."

Robbie added, "A tall draft beer."

Peter looked up to the bartender's face and said, "Just a coke for me right now, please."

In the middle of reaching for a third glass, the bartender stopped. His eyes widened slightly, but then he unfroze and continued to get their drinks. Peter had a flash of recognition as well – _where do I know this guy?_

"Uh, have we met before?" Peter asked him.

The guy shrugged a little, and filled Robbie's glass. "I dunno. You like the Mets?"

"Yeah, who doesn't?" he answered with a grin.

"I'm a big fan. Maybe you've seen me at a game." He turned to fill another glass with soda.

He could almost picture the guy with a Mets cap on his head, and it seemed to go with the dim recollection he had. "I don't get to games that often – work keeps me pretty busy."

"Yeah, well, good to see you got a night off."

"Hear, hear," Robbie agreed. "Slow news night. Thank God." He turned to Peter. "But don't tell Jonah I said that." They laughed together.

The bartender set their drinks in front of them. There were very few other customers in this section of the restaurant. He picked up a glass to wash. "Jonah… as in J. Jonah Jameson? You guys work for the _Bugle_?"

Andy answered for them, "I just freelance. They have full-time jobs there – senior editor and staff photographer." Robbie and Peter nodded in turn.

"Sorry to tell you, but I stopped buying the thing a year ago. Too much bad press about Spider-Man." He looked right at Peter as he said it, seeming to study his reaction.

Peter opened his mouth to speak, but Robbie responded, "Preaching to the choir, here. You are probably looking at the only three voices of reason in that newsroom."

"There's no changing Jameson's mind when it comes to Spider-Man," Peter added ruefully.

"Too bad. The guy's a hero in my book." Changing the subject, he asked them, "Do you want to order anything?"

They chose a couple things to share. Peter was pleasantly surprised; the food was quite good. About halfway through the meal, Robbie turned to Peter and said, "So why isn't Harry Osborn here? Held up at the office?"

"No, Robbie," Peter replied with a frown, setting down his fork. "He and I had a falling out several months ago. We're no longer friends."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Peter. I know you were close." It seemed as if he wanted to say more, but he mercifully let it drop.

As they were finishing the food, Andy raised his glass in a toast. "To the lucky groom – may you have many happy years together!"

He, Robbie and Andy clinked their glasses together. After he took a swig, Peter looked over at the small television in the corner of the bar. The bottom of the screen read, _"BREAKING NEWS – Hostage Situation."_

"Turn it up," Peter called to the bartender. The guy pointed the remote at the screen.

_"We just arrived at the scene of a bank heist gone awry. The robbers seem to be holding several hostages in return for safe passage..."_

As one, the three men around him – Andy, Robbie and the bartender – turned to look at Peter. He flustered and looked down at his watch. "Oh, wow, is that the time? I promised MJ I'd be back 10 minutes from now."

Andy patted him on the back. "Yeah, wouldn't want to keep a lady waiting."

Robbie patted the check beside him and said, "You're the guest of honor. We'll get this. Go on home, Peter."

"Thanks, guys, for a nice time. See you tomorrow." He grabbed his jacket on the back of the chair and headed out the door.

The three remaining men stayed and chatted a while longer, each not really wanting to discuss the unspoken subject. But not one of them took an eye off the television screen until the crisis was resolved.

* * *

**(1) - See part 2 of story trilogy "Enquiring Minds."**


	9. Chapter 9: Pretend

**A/N: Okay, so I didn't wait to post until after I had written the next chapter. Thanks to Jenn1, Georgia Kennedy, Ziggybuttercup, and Mark C once again. And hazelle, thanks for your comments via email. Everyone else - review and see YOUR NAME HERE! Okay, enough with the shameless begging...**

Best Wishes

Chapter 9: Pretend

"Aunt May, did you get a hold of my Uncle Spencer yet? I don't think we have an RSVP for him," Mary Jane asked. She had been sorting through the cards at May's kitchen table.

"No, dear. He is very busy at court this month. I have left several messages with his secretary, though," May reassured her.

"I want to make sure he knows we've changed the date and location of the wedding to May 5th at City Hall," she fretted. "He is, after all, performing the ceremony."

"Don't worry, Mary Jane. I'll keep calling twice a day until I get an answer." May went back to making sandwiches; Mary Jane continued marking names on her list.

Peter moved his head into view from behind the corner of the wall. He had been standing out of view of the camera. Giving the two of them an 'all clear' signal, he came to sit at the table. "Harry was definitely watching during that one, but it's off now."

May deflated a little. Mary Jane, accomplished at acting, just kept working. "Or whoever it is. I hope they take the bait, Peter." MJ was still insisting that they didn't have enough evidence to be sure it was Harry.

May seemed to agree as well. "I can't believe that that nice Harry would try to ruin your wedding. You three were such good friends. I hope it really isn't him."

"People change, Aunt May. The need for revenge can twist a soul beyond recognition. I've seen it all too often in the time I've been doing this." Peter looked over at what Mary Jane was doing. "Does it look like everyone got the new invitations?"

"Yes, and they turned out even better than the other set. Looks like everyone can make it," she stated, but then gave Peter a piercing look. "As long as the groom can make it."

Peter put his arms around her. "I wouldn't miss it for the world. Not even if six of the world's worst criminals showed up at my doorstep."

She cocked an eyebrow. "What about twelve?"

While May smiled indulgently, he lifted her off her feet and into his arms. A long kiss was his resounding answer.

* * *

The curtain lowered on their last curtain call for the evening. Mary Jane's beaming face fell slightly in exhaustion. Time to get out of costume and makeup and get home to rest. There seemed to be so much to do with only 3 days to the wedding. And she needed her beauty rest so that she would be stunning.

Her cast mates in the chairs beside her seemed giddy and ready to stay up all night. They would probably go out clubbing until the wee hours, sleep in until an ungodly hour and start all over again with another performance.

_Am I getting old?_ she wondered. There had been a time when she would have gladly joined them in partying all night. But that was before Peter, before her life as a superhero's support system. A tiny corner of her being missed that carefree life.

_But I have never been happier._ Her life seemed to have purpose. She was no longer 'half alive,' as she had put it to Peter a year ago. She smiled a secret, contented smile and finished removing her stage makeup.

Suddenly she felt a tap on her shoulder. She looked up and saw Louise standing over her, grinning. "MJ! The stage manager let me come back here. How's the blushing bride?"

"Hey, Louise." Mary Jane was genuinely happy to see her. "Nervous. Tired. Elated. You know, the usual."

"I hope you're not too tired to have a cup of coffee with your best friend," she cajoled.

She started to decline, but then accepted. "Sure, I think I can drag myself over to the coffee shop."

They left together, and immediately, Louise hailed a cab. It stopped in front of them. "Get in," she said with a devilish grin on her face.

"Wait. Where are we going?"

"It's a secret."

"I don't know, Louise..."

"You'll see. The MJ I know wouldn't let a little thing like a secret get in her way."

_That was more true than Louise would ever know._ "Fine, I'll trust you." Mary Jane slipped across the back seat.

As Louise got in, she gave an address that Mary Jane didn't recognize. It was in a part of town she had never really been to. She had a sneaking suspicion that she knew what was going on...

"Here we are!" Louise declared brightly.

Mary Jane got out of the cab and looked up at the sign above the door. _U.S. Male_. "Oh, no..." she groaned.

Louise grabbed her by the arm and led her inside. Lights were flashing, music pounding. There was a very well-muscled male dancer on the stage dressed in cowboy gear. Women were hooting and hollering in the seats around the stage.

But they didn't take a seat at one of those tables. Mary Jane was led to a party room in the back. They opened the door...

"Surprise!" MJ _was_ surprised, mostly to see several friends from the shows she had been in, as well as a couple girlfriends from Midtown High. Louise had gone to a lot of trouble to arrange _this._

"Wow, guys! You all came!" Their energy was contagious. _Peter probably won't be in until much later, anyway._

"How could we pass up another chance to party with our MJ?" her old friend Liz enthused.

A few drinks later, she felt positively nostalgic for the high school party girl she used to be. Laughing and joking like a teenager was doing wonders to lift the worries she'd had recently.

"I _still_ cannot get over the fact that you are marrying Peter! That you left that gorgeous astronaut for 'Puny Parker!'" Liz laughed heartily.

"Well, appearances can be deceiving, Liz. And he's not so _puny_ anymore, if you know what I mean," she suggested naughtily.

"You are so bad!" Louise slapped at Mary Jane's forearm.

A minute or so later, a couple of handsome servers rolled an oversized cake into the room. MJ turned to Louise. "Not the biggest cliché in the book!"

Louise smirked, "I couldn't help it - you missed the cake at your last wedding!"

The top of the cake popped open, and the requisite male stripper rose up wearing... a Spider-Man costume. MJ's mouth opened in shock.

Louise, Liz and the rest of her friends waited a minute to gauge her reaction. Then Mary Jane burst out laughing.

Everyone clapped and laughed in relief that MJ hadn't lost her sense of humor. The dancer jumped out of the cake and struck a classic Spidey pose. "So, Mary Jane," he said in a voice much too low in pitch, "you want to go swinging with me?"

She cocked her head to the side, and said cheekily to the pretend Spider-Man, "Sure. It wouldn't be the first time."

The girls all danced with him, until it was proved without a doubt to MJ, _You can dress a guy up in red and blue, but there's nothing like the real thing_.


	10. Chapter 10: Trap

**A/N: How I _agonized_ over this chapter! This is the longest action sequence I've ever written. I hope it's decent. I also know it's about twice as long - let me know if the tension is sustained well enough.**

**I dedicate this to my husband, who had to listen to me worry about it for days on end, as well as read and reread every version that got printed out.**

**Thanks to my reviewers: Mark C, Georgia Kennedy, Jenn1, knottaclue and LordLanceahlot.**

Best Wishes

Chapter 10: Trap

Dark gray smoke trailed behind him, making it easy to track his progress. Anyone who looked up might vaguely remember the sight from three years ago. Most probably wondered what could be flying so low. He hoped they remembered.

As he got closer to the street, people started to really recognize what it was. He found that he truly enjoyed the staring and pointing. But what was more satisfying were the terrified shouts and screams he heard as he flew by. He was sure they were thinking, _What is _he _doing back in town?_ _I thought Spider-Man took care of him!_

"Think again, New York," he said under his breath. He was now gliding along at a height of only 50 feet, zipping between buildings. The alarm of pedestrians was growing more noticeable as he made his descent. It was perfect.

He had spent months preparing for this day. He would attack Peter when he would be most vulnerable - and his wedding day was the perfect opportunity. The fact that the two love-birds had picked a public setting like City Hall made it all the more delicious. How ironic that Peter would have to defend himself and his loved ones while revealing his secret identity to everyone in view!

Peter would expect him to grab Mary Jane or May. But it would be Harry Osborn - not Norman - who would be calling the shots this time. This was between him and Peter only. He would lead the chase to the bay or somewhere - anywhere - Peter would have no place to attach his webbing.

Harry's mind whirled with anticipation as he rounded the corner. Crowds of people were entering and leaving the building, a few sat on the wide stone staircase leading to the doors. He scanned quickly for a group, but saw nothing. _I am sure I heard May tell someone 3 o'clock over the telephone..._ Was he too early, too late?

People began to clear a path, shouting and running for cover. A group of businessmen who were leaving City Hall suddenly scattered, revealing . . . Spider-Man. He sat on the steps, arms folded. Harry had been expected.

"Hi, Gobby. Long time no see." He saluted Harry sarcastically.

Harry's anger boiled over inside, giving the voice, suppressed for several months, a chance to break through his disciplined mind. _There he is, my boy! You have the power to finish him off! No matter that he expected you - Osborn blood runs in your veins! Use the talents you inherited to stay one step ahead!_

"Spider-Man. Hiding behind civilians? You've become even more cowardly in my absence," he taunted in the metallic voice that issued from the armor.

"Just playing a little hide-and-seek." He raised his hands in mock supplication. "I know how you like games. Here's another one: Catch me if you can!" With that, he sprang into the air, away from the terrified crowd.

This was not one of the scenarios Harry had planned, but never mind. Now that he had Peter in his sights, now that Peter knew he had taken up his father's mantle, he would not pass up a chance to destroy him.

Suppressing the voice again, he kicked the engines into high gear. Peter careened around the corner of a building. Harry was close behind.

From this height, he really got a chance to study Peter's abilities. He had a fluid, acrobatic grace to his movements honed by years of swinging around the city. If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he would never have believed the brainy, sensitive, soft-spoken Peter was the same brash, athletic powerhouse speeding away from him.

Peter twisted in mid-air and landed on the roof of a building. Harry brought the glider to a stop. Peter seemed to have disappeared. "I thought we weren't playing hide-and-seek anymore, Pete." He leapt lightly from the glider and started to look around. "Olly, olly, oxen free! Come out, come out, wherever you are!"

He came around the side of a wall. "Harry." Peter's voice trickled down from above. Harry looked up.

Peter was crouching on the wall, at least fifteen feet up. Even though Harry had seen Peter stick to the wall before, it was still disconcerting to watch him defy grafity like that.

His mouth twisted beneath the mask. "Pete," he acknowledged. "So it's just the two of us again. Only this time, the scales are more balanced."

Peter's tone turned disappointed. "I didn't want to believe it, but when I found the evidence of a pumpkin bomb, there was only one logical choice."

_So that's how he figured it out._ "It was _so_ nice of my father to leave his toys for me to play with, wasn't it?"

"Just the toys, Harry?" _...or the power as well?_ Harry knew that was the unfinished part of the question.

He would show, rather than tell. Activating the boot jets, he flew the short distance to Peter's position. Peter's precognition allowed him to dodge the fist aimed at him. A chunk of wall exploded inward where his head had been.

Peter flipped across a wide distance and landed noiselessly. "Nice try. Your father could at least land his punches," he called over flippantly.

If Peter had wanted to anger him, it worked, but not so much he would get careless. "Give me time, I'm just getting warmed up." He called his glider to him, leapt aboard, and the chase was on again.

No matter. Almost any direction Peter could go, he had a plan.

They started heading almost due north, through the canyons of buildings. Taking careful aim, Harry sprayed the air near Peter's head with rain of bullets.

The shock in Peter's body was almost visible. His body went rigid for a split second, as he quickly avoided them. _Didn't think I would use killing force, did you?_ Laughter bubbled up inside of him and burst out. Even to his own ears, it sounded... maniacal. But it felt right. He was exhilarated, knowing this time, he actually had the power to wipe out his enemy.

The bullets left a pockmarked trail across the face of a skyscraper, shattering the windows on one floor. He hardly had time to discern the screams as he zoomed past.

Ahead, Peter shot a web out in front of him to snag a tall spire. Like a slingshot, Peter's momentum carried him around and out of sight. "Where'd..." Harry began to say, then he felt a crash, and the glider tipped backward, almost over-balancing.

"No more games, Harry," Peter called from behind.

Harry quickly hit the autopilot button and spun around. "Decide to finally face me man to man?"

"It will only be 'man to man' if you leave other people out of it!" Peter tackled Harry, trying to wrest control of the glider away from him.

The glider began a steady descent. In his peripheral vision, Harry could see people in the windows of buildings. They were pointing and discussing the aerial battle inaudibly. He threw a punch that Peter blocked, but not without nearly tumbling off the side. Even Peter started to notice that they were heading for street level. They passed above a crowd of weekend shoppers, who gasped and scattered.

Peter grabbed Harry by the shoulders and turned to look at where they would land.

"Oh, no..." Peter said disbelievingly.

At that moment, they crashed through the tops of several trees, causing both of them to tumble off of the glider. A group of picnickers scrambled away from their table just in time, as the glider smashed it into bits.

Harry picked himself up and brushed off the detritus from the crash. Laughing, Harry called out, "Welcome to Central Park, Spider-Man."

* * *

"Gotta work on that dismount, Gobby!" Peter teased. He stood and surveyed the situation. _Is anyone hurt? _Peter thought. A crowd was gathering on the fringes of the clearing, well away from them. He hoped they stayed well away.

Thankfully, Harry kept up the charade now that they had an audience. "But you can't fault me for the routine - it was at least a 9 out of 10."

They began to circle each other. Peter was keenly aware that he was severely limited now in this fight. While his webbing would stick to the trees, it would get hopelessly tangled in the branches, which might also snap if he used them to vault himself skyward. He had to rely on his strength, reflexes and acrobatic ability.

Harry didn't seem to be limited by the setting. Using the jet power of the suit, he launched himself across the short distance between them. Peter easily avoided Harry's fist, somersaulting backward. He shot a net of webbing to stop Harry from plunging into the tree line, tripping him in the process.

Harry easily tore apart the strands and turned to face him. "It'll take more than that to stop me, little Spider."

"Unlike you, I really don't want to have to hurt you. I'm not a murderer, no matter what you may believe."

Stalking relentlessly toward Peter, Harry spat out, "Tell that to the ghost of my father, crying out for your blood!"

"He was a liar and a madman, but even he shouldn't have that kind of hold on you from the grave!" Peter sprang into the air to dodge his advance. At the top of his arc, however, Harry shot straight up. Peter couldn't correct in time, and he felt his ribs crack with the impact. He landed heavily, but still on his feet, several yards away.

Time to stop playing defense. Aiming a spin-kick at his attacker, it connected with Harry's head. Harry staggered back under the blow. Peter began raining blows on Harry, fists and feet, ignoring the growing pain from his cracked ribcage.

Harry made a powerful jump toward the trees. Peter bounded after him. He could now faintly hear the sound of sirens in the distance. One of the onlookers must have called the police. _This has to end now._ Putting an extra kick into his jump, he tackled Harry to the ground, pinning him.

"You think you've bested me, don't you?" he cackled up at Peter, who was straddling him. Peter's spider-sense flared, and he suddenly noticed a pumpkin bomb that appeared in Harry's gloved hand. Time seemed to freeze as he leapt away, bomb rising into the sky after him.

Peter got out of range just in time. The bomb exploded deafeningly, incinerating a huge tree. The fire ignited several trees in the vicinity. Harry was now standing, searching the blast area for him. Peter saw, as well as felt, the eerie mask lock gazes with him. He was perched high in the branches of a tree that had not yet caught on fire.

"Aw, please, come on down. We were just starting to have fun!"

Peter decided not to respond. He climbed higher into the branches, looking for an escape route. On one side, the fire was quickly spreading to the other trees. On the other, the flashing lights of the police were approaching. Maybe if he could get Harry closer to the police...

He didn't get a chance to make the decision. He suddenly turned to find Harry zooming toward him, jets on high power. They crashed through the canopy and were now visible to the authorities, who were sprinting through the grass toward them and the wrecked glider. Peter struggled in Harry's arms. He forcefully pushed away, and plunged downward. Hitting the ground running - he had to get clear of the trees! - Peter headed for the police and the fiery blaze.

Peter had a second's warning to try to get out of the way of Harry's next attack. By this time, his costume was torn, his skin was cut and bleeding from the jagged branches. He rolled out of the way, rose to a crouch, and turned to Harry, breathing heavily. "The police are going to be here soon, you know, Harry." Peter no longer cared about playacting superhero and villain. The roaring of the fire was covering up most of the sound anyway.

"Then I'll just have to finish you off before then." A sharp blade sprang from a wrist holder. He slashed raggedly at Peter's chest. He dodged again, but each time was becoming more difficult. Peter could tell the fight was taking its toll on Harry too.

The police were now at the periphery of the fire. Firefighters had not arrived yet, and the officers were ill-prepared to come in after them. Peter then heard a sickening crack above them. The fire had gutted one of the largest trees, and it began to fall slowly, inexorably toward them. Scrambling across the ground, Peter tried to get clear before it came crashing down. Harry started to chase after Peter, apparently unaware of what was happening behind him. He then halted, and turned toward the blazing column moving toward him. That moment cost him the chance to get clear.

As Peter got to the edge of the trees, he looked back. With a resounding thud, the tree limbs trapped Harry beneath them. "NO!" Peter yelled in anguish.

One of the officers called out to him, "Was that the Green Goblin in there?"

He could only nod numbly. Goblin or not, vow of revenge or not, Harry was still his friend. He would not let him be cooked alive in that suit of his.

"Hey, what are you doing!" the officer called after him, as he plowed through the flaming branches. Using strength fueled by adrenaline and need, he tore huge sections and tossed them to the sides. Peter found Harry under a large limb. He could hear Harry screaming in agony. Peter levered up the trunk on his back, and lifted it skyward. With a great groan and heave, the burning tree crashed down to the side. Peter hefted Harry on his shoulders and staggered out to the clearing.

Laying him as gently as he could on the ground, he removed the mask. Harry coughed and looked up at him. "He got us, again, father..." he slurred.

"Harry! Hang on! Help is on its way!" Peter waved over paramedics who were just beginning to arrive.

Harry's eyes were rolling back into his head, and his speech was mostly unintelligible, punctuated by a clear word now and again. "Osborn blood... failed... father..."

The paramedics lifted him onto a stretcher. One turned to Peter and said, "You look like you'd better get to the hospital yourself. Get in, we'll clean you up."

He shook his head forcefully. "I'll be fine. Be careful of the armor!" Taking one last look at Harry, Peter sprinted away, shouts of policemen following him, the opposite direction of the flashing lights.


	11. Chapter 11: Finally

**A/N: Sorry for the slightly longer wait for this final installment. I had issues to work out with some of the plot points. Thanks to my _three_ beta readers on this chapter: hazelle, Georgia Kennedy, and my DH.**

Best Wishes

Chapter 11: Finally

May pulled tightly on the large bandage, securing it so that it wouldn't come loose. Peter let out a little grunt of protest. "You boys, really. Always fighting at inappropriate times..." May scolded.

Peter chuckled, or at least tried to with his sore ribs. "Thanks, Aunt May."

"Are you sure it's tight enough? I don't want it breaking open and ruining your shirt."

"It'll be fine. I've lived through worse, you know." Peter chided.

"Don't remind me, young man."

His eyes drifted back to the television screen, where the news was again running the top story - _"Green Goblin captured!"_ He hoped Harry was doing all right. It would be too dangerous to go visit him in the hospital. As delirious as Harry had been, there was no telling what he might say in Peter's presence. If only there was some way to let the authorities know that Harry was not to blame for the atrocities Norman had committed. But how to do that without compromising his own secret?

May clucked her tongue. "Oh, Peter, you know there's nothing you can do about that right now," she said, reading his thoughts as always. She began to help him button the tiny tuxedo buttons on his shirt. "I thought Mary Jane convinced you of that last night."

The two of them had stayed up late the night before, talking into the night. Mary Jane had finally kissed him and left for Louise's apartment, saying, _"Peter, you didn't make Harry follow after his father. No one did. He made that decision on his own. Now, I had better go, or it'll be tomorrow. And you know it's bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding," _she had teased.

"I know, Aunt May, but I will always wonder if there was something I could have done to prevent it."

Aunt May wrapped him in a gentle hug. "My dear, you constantly amaze me. Rest easy today - this is _your_ day. Focus that energy on that sweet girl of yours." She released him, and gave him a once over. "Let's get that bowtie tied properly."

* * *

_"...Park was the scene of a horrific fire, apparently started during an altercation between Spider-Man and the Green Goblin. The Goblin's reappearance was a surprise to many; he had been absent from the skies of New York for three years. The criminal is being kept in a high-security ward of St. John's Hospital, as he recovers from injuries sustained during the fight. Authorities have not released the Goblin's identity. Stay tuned for further developments. In other news..."_

The radio went silent as Robbie switched off the ignition. He got out of the car, shaking his head. _The day before the wedding? _he thought grimly. _The only worse timing would have been today!_ He was here to drive Peter and May to the ceremony in Central Park. He hoped Cedar Hill had not been affected by the fire.

Robbie pressed the call button at the entrance. An older woman's voice answered, _"Hello? Watson-Parker residence."_

"Is this Peter's Aunt May?" Robbie asked. He had never met her in person, only spoken to her on the phone.

_"Yes, it is. Is this Mr. Robertson?"_

"Yes, ma'am."

_"Please **c**ome up. Peter's just about dressed."_ There was a final click and buzz as the door released.

When he reached the apartment door, Robbie raised his fist to rap on it, but suddenly Peter called out, "Come in, Robbie."

Smirking slightly - he hadn't even had a chance to knock - he opened the door. May, dressed in a lovely rose-colored dress, was fussing over Peter's bowtie. "Peter, great tux. Ready for your big day?"

"Absolutely." Peter stuck out a hand to shake Robbie's in greeting.

Robbie shook his hand firmly and gave him a hearty pat on the back. "That's the spirit. No cold feet, then?"

He couldn't help but notice the way Peter had winced when he had patted him. Peter shook it off, and replied, "Are you kidding? I've wanted nothing more for... I don't know _how_ long."

"More than 10 years, I'd say," May put in warmly. "My dear boy finally got the girl next door."

Robbie noticed the television was on in the background, set on mute. He picked up the remote control, asking, "May I?"

Peter started to speak, but nodded curtly instead. He began walking away toward the bedroom. The sound came back on. The bottom of the screen read: _"BREAKING NEWS: Goblin's Identity Revealed."_ Pictures on the screen juxtaposed Harry Osborn against the demonic-looking Goblin mask. _"The authorities have just released the identity of the infamous Green Goblin to be the heir to the Oscorp fortune, Harry Osborn."_

Shocked, Robbie turned to Peter, who had stopped cold. "Harry Osborn?" Turning around slowly, Peter nodded. The look on his face was the epitome of sadness.

May wouldn't meet his gaze. She announced airily, "I'll go get the boutonnières, gentlemen." She headed quickly for the kitchen.

The anchorwoman was continuing, _"...toxic substances found in his blood may explain Osborn's delirious state. It is likely that he will be charged for multiple murders and crimes from three years ago, as well as recent incidents of arson and terrorist activities. No word as of yet as to whether he will be facing a life sentence in prison, or a life of confinement at Ravencroft Asylum."_

Robbie couldn't believe it. It didn't seem right. "Peter. All this time, _Harry Osborn_ has been the Green Goblin?"

A series of emotions flashed through Peter's eyes, and he finally said, "No. I'm sure he was not the original Goblin. I think he may have found the stockpile." Peter seemed to focus his gaze inward. "I don't know if you knew this, but he blames Spider-Man... for his father's death. This was his way to get revenge." Peter turned and noticed May hanging behind in the doorway of the kitchen and nodded that it was okay to come in.

Wheels were turning in his mind. He wasn't a senior editor for nothing. _His father, the stockpile - the original Green Goblin was... Norman?_ That would explain a lot.

May moved to pin the boutonnieres on him and Peter. "Why are we standing around here talking? We have a wedding to get to!"

* * *

Peter stood with Robbie at the front left of the canopy, Louise on the right. Judge Spencer waited with a calm air. At the change in music, the smallish crowd assembled turned toward the entrance. Mary Jane stepped out of an adjoining tent to stop in the center aisle.

Always the consummate actress, she paused to let everyone, especially the groom, take in her radiant beauty. He could just imagine what Jameson would have said: _"Made it to this one, did she?" _Mary Jane flashed him a blinding smile before stepping forward.

Peter was floored. He had seen her in her first, barely-worn wedding dress, but this one... was... stunning. The dress was close-fitting through the bodice, flaring at the knees. Her arms were covered in sheer lace, with cutouts at the shoulders. But what topped it off were her sparkling eyes, now only for him. His heart swelled with love as he thought about the fact that _this woman_ - this gorgeous, talented, brave woman - wanted to be his forever.

She took his hand when she reached the front. He hardly listened as Judge Spencer read through the ceremony. He was getting lost in the depths of her green eyes. He had a feeling she was having the same difficulty. He suddenly noticed that the judge was looking at him, waiting for something. He reviewed the last half-heard sentence in his mind... "...vows to pledge to each other. Peter?"

He startled, embarrassed. "Oh! Yes," he started to say. Mary Jane smiled indulgently. He recovered enough to begin, and squeezed her hands tighter. "MJ - even though I was afraid to let you into my life and my heart, you made me realize I can't live without you. No matter what else we have to deal with, no matter what tries to get in our way - you are first in my heart. Thank you for 'saving my life.'" He took the ring from Robbie and slid it on her finger. "With this ring, I pledge my love forever."

Mary Jane took her turn. "Peter - you are the most amazing man I have ever known. I want to be there for you forever, to care for you when you are hurting, to share in your successes. You make me whole, the only man I've ever loved." MJ turned to get the ring from Louise. "With this ring, I pledge my love forever." As the ring slid onto his finger, he felt a sort of charge, like the circuit was now complete.

"By the power invested in me by the state of New York, I now pronounce you husband and wife!" Their kiss started almost before the judge finished the words, to the gathered crowd's applause.

* * *

"Okay, happy couple, smile!" Andy cheerfully snapped a picture of Peter and Mary Jane, who were sitting at a table, relaxing and enjoying themselves. Once Andy had moved on to get photos of other guests, Peter shifted - and winced again. He had to be a bit careful of his bandaged ribs - luckily the wound hadn't opened and soaked through. _That_ would have been difficult to explain.

This really was a great little restaurant. He caught Ms. Peters' eye and nodded thanks and approval. She just beamed back at him, and went about keeping the buffet stocked. She really had done a wonderful job on very short notice. The food was excellent, the cake light and sweet, there was even a DJ spinning some great tunes for the guests. And of course, her flower arrangements were beautiful as well. She had incorporated Mary Jane's favorite, yellow carnations, with other complementary flowers. In other places in the room, she had placed a combination of red roses with sprays of blue wildflowers. He would not have guessed that two distinctly different flowers would go so well together.

MJ stood and took his hand. "I know there's no dance floor here, but do you think we could have our first dance as a married couple?" She winked at him.

"How can I deny you, Mrs. Parker? Lead on."

The DJ seemed to sense what she had in mind, because the music faded into a romantic ballad. Placing his hands on her waist, they began to slow dance. Time seemed both to slow down and speed up as they simply rocked together through several songs.

He felt a tap on his shoulder. It was Ms. Peters. "Sorry to interrupt, but I wanted to give you this before you leave for your hotel." She had a distinct twinkle in her eye as she handed him an envelope, then left the two of them alone.

They started to walk back to their table. "Is it the bill?" MJ wondered.

"I'm not sure, but she seemed to want us to open it before we left--" He slid a finger under the flap and tore the envelope open. It looked like a printed receipt for services. "Yes, the bill..." But before he could take in the total, he saw a note printed in large lettering at the bottom. He read it aloud in astonishment. _"PAID IN FULL."_

"What?" Mary Jane leaned over his shoulder to read it with him.

After a long list of items and services, the total had been scratched out, and those words were below. There was an arrow indicating the receipt should be turned over. They read the other side with growing wonder. _"Best Wishes for the future, to the man who gave us our futures back. Gratefully, the passengers of the El-Train, Car 1."_ There were nearly 20 signatures below.

Peter slowly raised his head to look at Ms. Peters. She winked and nodded around the room at the other servers. He looked at each face in turn, realizing that each and every one of them - Ms. Peters, the bartender, the DJ, the servers, the greeter, even the young men serving the punch - had been on that train. As they each caught his eye, they nodded their thanks.

An overwhelming sense of what they had done for him came upon him. _Such a grand gesture, when I was only doing what was right..._ His throat closed up, and he blinked away a tear...

MJ looked at Peter, who was still reeling in shock, and realized what needed to be done. She mouthed the words, _Thank you_, to Ms. Peters and the others. She then replaced the note in the envelope, took Peter's hand, and led him back for one final dance.

**THE END**

**A/N: Thanks for all the encouragment along the way. Review thanks to: Jenn1, Mark C, Georgia Kennedy, betty brant, Ziggybuttercup, hazelle and LordLanceahlot.**

**I am pretty sure (though don't hold me to it) that this is _the end_ for this particular story arc. Look for something set several years in the future next, maybe after the holidays are over!**


End file.
